


Fool enough to fall for it

by Ziane



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Barbecue, Dorks in Love, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, On the beach, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, a bit of vogeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 09:31:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15603405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ziane/pseuds/Ziane
Summary: After a few days without Hanzo, Jesse cannot wait to reunite with his sweetheart even if that means to escape the Overwatch yearly barbecue in favor of some quality time together.





	Fool enough to fall for it

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CaptainNeedsNoSleep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainNeedsNoSleep/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Hanzo in a swimsuit](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/404262) by CaptainNeedsNoSleep. 



> Hi!! I'm still hopeful Hanzo will get a Summer skin this year σ(≧ε≦ｏ), but in the meantime (and to spoil me) my dear CaptainNeedsNoSleep drew a stunning [Hanzo](https://captainneedsnosleep.tumblr.com/post/176657688699/so-innercherryblossomsoul-cried-on-discord-that) in a gorgeus swimwear and I felt so inspired I had to write this. Go check her [tumblr](https://captainneedsnosleep.tumblr.com/) and give her some love because she drew Genji, Reinhardt, Gabe and Phara too and they are worth seeing !!!! I really hope you like it !! Thank you for blessing us daily on Lovewatch with your art ٩(♡ε♡ )۶
> 
> English is not my mother tongue, so there will be mistakes (๑•﹏•)

A hidden beach guarded by a tall cliff and rocky hillsides is this year’s choice for the yearly barbecue that takes place in the summer for all former members of Overwatch. The dry and warm weather of Ilios is perfect, the salty breeze of the sea and the smell of Jack’s hot dogs and Lucio’s music the cherry on top for a day that promises to be long and full of fun. Until McCree sees Hanzo. His jaw drops and his heart leaps. “Damn you, Hanzo Shimada,” he curses under his nose.

The archer and the cowboy engaged recently in a casual affair of nights in Gibraltar ruled by stolen kisses and furtive encounters in the shooting range, atop the comm tower, in the common room… and they developed quickly into a daily necessity McCree craved more every day. The first time he knocked in the middle of the night into Hanzo’s quarters he pulled him inside bluntly with a smirk and he had a marvelous sleepless night he will never forget. Hanzo came to his room two nights after and they’ve been repeating the pattern as often as duty allows them.

But McCree has been stuck in Gibraltar while Hanzo and the rest of the team accomplished a mission in Greece. The ORCA picked them up in the morning and his longing and hankering didn’t improve when he realized Hanzo was already at the beach with Genji, Winston and the others. They started the party without him and he hoped at least his sweetheart would wait for him but no, the archer did not.

And now this. McCree swallows, adjusting his straw hat knowing he will be able to stare just a little longer before someone… “I think your clock’s off, cowboy,” Hana mocks him, standing by his side in her pink shorts and matching neoprene shirt. “You’re a bit late to the party.”

“So are you, honey,” McCree says and clicks his tongue.

“Not anymore,” Hana says, scooting barefoot to the sea. “The last one is a Talon agent!”

McCree snorts, pulling the sides of the towel around his neck and cursing how is he going to keep his hands out of Hanzo when he dresses like that. He walks decisively toward him, lowering the brim of his hat and sweeping his gaze up and down on him. “Damn,” he curses out loud. Hanzo wears a one-piece swimsuit that one could say hides his favorite parts of him, but the catch is, it opens at the front with a zipper, has a cute belt framing his waist -the one he loves to grasp and leave bruises on- and those damn shorts leave little to the imagination, especially when he knows the heavenly curves that lay underneath. The blueish color accentuates his skin, his black hair tied up in a bun just how he knows Hanzo likes and a beautiful golden koi on a side, unmatched by the impressive ink on his left arm. A sight to behold. McCree sighs and already curses the tightness in his red bathing suit. This will be a long day.

“I hope you’re wearing sunscreen, McCree,” Angela says behind him, startling the cowboy and joining him on his amble to the shore.

“I never get burned,” McCree says, standing up straight and sticking his chest out.

“Jesse?” The good doctor glares at him, swaying a bottle of sunscreen in front of his face.

“Angie?” McCree grins.

“You can ask Hanzo for help,” Angela suggests with a mischievous smile that doesn’t suit the sweet edges of her features.

McCree grunts and rolls his eyes until he sees stars, snatching the bottle from her hands, resuming his walking and muttering profanities at how their little affair is common knowledge. Half Overwatch knows they are fucking and the other half knew it before it actually happened. But he will worry about that in another time because when Hanzo spots him in the distance he smiles with that sweet brief twitch of the corner of his mouth that he knows is just for him and his stomach curls warm and nice at the sight. McCree has missed him these past days, and it’s not just the sex, he misses his company, his smile, the way they look for each other even to share a quiet evening or a smoke. He sighs, besotted by the gorgeous creature that rules his heart and spices his mind, especially in outfits like that one.

“Hey, man, how’s it going?” Lucio says, immediately lifting his hand for a fist bump that McCree returns gladly but without taking his eyes off Hanzo for too long. “You’ve missed one of the good ones.”

“Yeah, and ya’ know I like a good row,” McCree says distractedly, eyes on the archer while he helps Genji with the beach umbrellas that will cover them from the sun while they eat. He nods and smiles to Lucio while he relates the last mission and how he pushed three guys off a cliff before they could retrieve the Ilios ruins that Overwatch wanted to protect. “You know what we need, partner? Music.”

“Yeah, man, I gotcha!”

McCree sighs when Lucio fumbles in his belongings and sets speakers and music devices in a towel near an umbrella and he uses the distraction to escape, but suddenly he has lost his target and he groans in frustration, gazing at the landscape looking for that sexy Shimada ass enhanced by the summer garments.

Orisa, her Frenchie, and Zenyatta enjoy what seems a peaceful meditation near the rocks, the eyes of the omnic turn red and then a friendly yellow as she waves to him. McCree waves back and swallows, fearing Orisa is still plotting to collect his bounty. Angie, on the other hand, is already generously coating Genji’s face in sunscreen while the poor guy sports a dopey smile, cheeks beet red playing with the hem of his green speedos. Probably that’s why Hanzo isn’t there anymore, to give them some privacy, hoping Genji takes the lead once and for all and hits on the good doctor. McCree leaves his stuff near the rocks and approaches Ana, Jack, and Wilhelm, greeting them by touching the brim of his hat, though he already misses his good old Stetson.

“Hello!” Reinhardt’s heartwarming voice startles him. The man already sports red skin even if he’s covered by a thin layer of white sunscreen over his hairy chest, waiting patiently for the first round of food and sipping a cold beer.

“Howdy,” McCree says, exchanging a wink with Ana who converses with Jack and Wilhelm.

“And I thought the battleground was better than a cabana on the beach,” Amari snorts. “I was wrong! I might even retire.”

“You’d be bored in a day, my dear,” Wilhelm says right before a hearty laugh. “We old-timers must stick together, teach these kids a thing or two!” He nudges McCree, but he is distracted inspecting the shore and the peaceful rivets the waves leave behind on the sand.

“Steak before chicken, vegetables are coming in third,” Morrison says, lifting his sunglasses to scrutinize his barbecue accurately. The smell is already delicious and McCree fills his lungs, mouth watery with anticipation until he finds Hanzo and once again he stares, mouth agape and stomach churning in pleasure more than hunger.

The archer is coming out of the sea in slow motion to McCree’s perception, water pouring down on him and marking his skin in paths only sweat do at night and he knows it all too well to not feel the effect immediately down his groin. He is a vision, a temptation, the zipper at the front slightly an inch down and oh, how McCree wished to slide it all the way down and sneak his hands inside to fondle the noticeable perked nipples! His skin shines smooth and wet, begging for a lick. The weather is impossibly hot, but McCree burns in hell at the sight of that tantalizing temptation. Hanzo sees him too and smiles smugly because he knows the power he has over him and loves to drive him mad with wanton. How could he resist? He has fallen hard, he so in love his heart aches whenever they are separated and his life wouldn’t be the same without him anymore. McCree wants him, this is more than an affair or a fuck buddy this is Hanzo and he wants the whole package for himself to love and fuck for the rest of his days.

“Close your mouth, Jesse,” Ana whispers at his side while Jack and Reinhardt busy themselves preparing the first round of food for the rest of the team. McCree clears his throat, his hat unable to conceal the red on his cheeks. “Get in there,” Ana says, glancing at him over her white sunglasses and nudging him with an elbow, a knowing smile stretching her lips too knowingly for McCree’s taste, but it is time to buckle up and get that man.

“Ain’t no stopping me,” McCree says while a wolfish grin grows wide and Ana pats him on the back while he swags his way to Hanzo, who is drying up his skin with a towel while his eyes follow his every move.

What McCree would really want is to jump over him, tackle him on the hot sand and roll in it until Hanzo moaned, flustered and begging just how he has him in his bed most nights. But they’re keeping it low-key, discreetly, and he sighs, smiling lovingly to those black eyes turning him into a puddle.

“Finally,” Hanzo says, pursing his lips.

“Have ya’ missed me, darlin’?” McCree says, tipping his hat.

“Not at all,” Hanzo teases. “Not even in the lonely nights I have spent here…”

“… thinking about me,” McCree finishes, getting closer, the smell of the sea and the noise of the seagulls mingling in the background. Their chests are an inch away, eyes locked into the other, smiles telling the truths their mouths and hearts hide so very well, but when Zarya and Mei stroll at their side hand in hand with clear intentions to greet them, McCree steps away and Hanzo sighs, disappointment pursing his lips.

“Hiya!” Mei says enthusiastically followed by a giggle.

“Ladies,” McCree greets them with a wide smile and relishes in the intent roll of eyes from Zarya.

“Reinhardt!” Zarya exhales, eyes narrowing. “Let’s go, he said he would arm wrestle me again!”

Mei sighs and shrugs at a chuckling McCree as she watches Zarya walking toward him decisively in wide strides. “Before I go, any of you want a popsicle?” She asks with a sweet smile.

“I ain’t hungry, but thank you kindly.”

“I will have one,” Hanzo says.

“Of course,” Mei giggles, beckoning snowball to assist her. “We’ve been learning a couple of tricks. My little helper can preserve cold water or ice-cream, though there is not much storage space,” she says, taking a strawberry popsicle out of snowball and offering it to Hanzo.

“You have my thanks,” Hanzo says with a polite smile and waves Mei away who hurries to follow Zarya’s determined steps. He stares at McCree, letting his tongue out to lick the tip of his newly acquired popsicle with a face McCree usually sees from atop. “Do you want some?”

McCree cocks his head to a side, chewing the inside of his cheek and cursing the twirling tongue granting the summer treat the delicacies Hanzo usually has for him or parts of him. And judging by the smug smile accompanying the -too lewd to be legal- movements of his mouth, Hanzo is doing it on purpose.

“You’re evil,” McCree chides him.

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Hanzo says, licking from his lips the excess and slurping loudly at the tip with a pleasant hum at the strawberry flavor while McCree exhales a lascivious sigh.

“That ain’t fair, sweetheart,” McCree groans, getting closer to whisper even if they are too far away from anyone to notice. “I’ve missed ya’ badly.”

“I can see that,” Hanzo says, flicking his eyes down to McCree’s obvious arousal. “Do you want me to help you with that?”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, darlin’.”

“We could go for a walk down the shore…” Hanzo teases, his tongue lapping the ice greedily.

“… an’ get lost between the rocks,” McCree says, biting his lower lip. “While they’re distracted eating.”

“I am not hungry,” Hanzo says, getting so close the smell of sugary strawberry reaches his nostrils. “Not from food anyway.”

They both chuckle in unison at their heated shared lust, walking swiftly down the shore, the waves wetting their feet and leading the way to the distant rocks to find a quiet place to share one of their stolen kisses, perhaps more, judging by how Jesse, as soon as they are out of sight, kneads his ass and gets closer to him. McCree steals the popsicle and takes a bite from it while Hanzo pouts. He loves this, him, that he can be himself around him, naughty, like an enamored teenager, casting the assassin’s façade aside once and for all. The cowboy takes his hand, keeping the stick in his pocket once they finish it, fingers sticky and mouths tinted in pink and red. Hanzo knows this is true rapture, just being with him balms his heart and heals his soul.

McCree finds a shadowy clearing in the rocks, far enough from everyone, discreet enough for what he intends, but before his mind can wrap further around it, he presses him gently to a side, relishing in the tremble of his body against the cold stone. Hanzo opens his mouth to him, willingly, gasps as only a lover does before a kiss he has been waiting forever. McCree traps his mouth with eagerness, the tension of the last few days pouring out of him mixed with the realization that he wants Hanzo more than he has revealed to the archer. He needs to fix that soon. As soon as he is done with that mildly cold strawberry tongue brushing his own.

“I want you, sweetheart,” McCree whispers before he falls again for his lips. A soft glide of his tongue stroking inside his mouth steals a moan from Hanzo that goes right to his already hard length.

“Jesse,” Hanzo moans, winding his arms around his shoulders and bringing him closer to him, where he belongs, where he wants him today, tonight and every day for the rest of his life, but he hasn’t revealed that to the cowboy.

“I need to tell ya’ somethin’,” McCree mumbles against his mouth even though Hanzo’s body grinding against his own is doing wonders to his cock but turning his brain into mush. The archer slides a shameless hand from the sweaty small of his back and inside his bathing suit to grip bruisingly his ass and that’s it, McCree loses it. “Darlin’…”

He thrusts his tongue inside his mouth, both hands fondling Hanzo’s magnificent ass, squeezing the wet fabric of the swimsuit. McCree crouches to slide both hands from the back of his thighs and high up, kneading expertly and sliding inside the garment to mold the perfect curve of his ass under his filthy hands. “That thing doesn’t even cover yer ass, sweet pie,” McCree slurs.

Hanzo chuckles into his mouth, pressing his hard cock right into McCree’s thigh and enjoying the same treatment from the cowboy. Almost forty and he cannot even control himself around him, losing his head, his mind, and unleashing his most lascivious wet dreams freely. “I knew you would like it.”

“Ya’ like to drive me mad and I sure damn love it,” McCree teases, bites Hanzo’s bottom lip and moans when the rocking of his hips brushes on the right spot. He is ruining his bathing suit on the inside and he couldn’t care less, not when the most enrapturing eyes are fixed on him, speaking of lust and want and the many things they want to do to each other. They glitter with hope and mimic his own because after such a long time, after so many years of meaningless life he has found him, his soulmate, his partner, the one he wants to fuck every night, love every day, and fight by their side. “Hanzo,” McCree moans his name and Hanzo pays him with another languid, wet kiss, so full of lust and love that it melts his heart and makes his cock twitch at the same time.

“I lied,” Hanzo mumbles. “I have missed you in my bed every night.”

“I know, sweetheart, me too,” McCree says, trailing a sinful path of bites and pecks along his jaw and down his throat, salty and damp from the quick dip. He latches on his neck, pursuing to leave a mark, one that will have them both snickering as Hanzo uselessly tries to conceal it, making excuses up in front of Genji who _always_ notices them.

“You are sleeping in my bed tonight and,” Hanzo gasps and the intent sucking of McCree that reminds him of how good he is with his big mouth elsewhere. “I can assure you we will not sleep at all.”

“I won’t let ya’,” McCree mumbles with a mouthful of his flesh. “I will fuck you until morning and then some more.”

“Yes,” Hanzo gasps, both hands gripping tightly and digging holes in McCree’s ass, lowering the bathing suit without noticing. “Breakfast in bed too.”

“Breakfast is you, honey,” McCree moans, his hard cock begging for a touch, so used already to the slow gliding he has set on Hanzo’s thigh.

If McCree isn't cautioned he will embarrass himself worse than the first time they ended up like this at the shooting range. It was late at night, a hard wall on his back and the archer pining him there as he ravished his mouth and palmed his cock with such dexterity that the mere fondling of his fingers pushed him to his climax. He’s been smart enough to realize how weak he is around Hanzo. “Wait, sweetheart,” he gasps. “There’s one thing…”

McCree puts some distance between them, hips still pressing Hanzo to the rocks, and with a satisfied groan, he slowly tugs at the zipper and slides it down until the belt stops his hand, revealing Hanzo’s swelling chest in all its glory just for his eyes. “As soon as I saw you I wanted to glide this nasty zipper down,” McCree says and Hanzo chuckles.

His laugh dies in a moan when callous, warm hands cup his chest. McCree circles his thumbs over luscious, perked nipples and another loud moan leaves his lungs. Hanzo uselessly shushes him until a warm mouth wraps around a nip and an eager tongue brushes hastily over it, sending a whole body shudder down his spine. McCree hums his pleasure, how a salty nipple hardens inside his mouth, against a flat tongue, and then he suckles on it. His hands are all over him and Hanzo bites his tongue to keep the noises at bay, but a hand kneads his ass, another his pec, and that mouth steals the little resolve he had to keep this just as a foreplay for tonight. He made an error in judgment.

“Not here, Jesse,” Hanzo moans, sneaking a hand under his hat -which falls at their feet- to tug at the mussed brown hair. It only encourages McCree to bite with a mouthful of his flesh and then move to the other nipple, tongue flicking to lick his thumb and the tip at the same time he glances up at him with puppy eyes.

“Then you shouldn’t wear these things,” McCree mumbles, lips dragging along his sensitive spot before he latches on it again, eliciting a moan from the archer.

“Hurry, then,” Hanzo says, wanting to roll his eyes at how easily the cowboy convinced him with the use of his big mouth. McCree finds it amusing also because he chuckles and moves up to kiss with swollen lips Hanzo’s not so prim smile.

“You’re so pretty like this,” McCree praises but it is true, he adores Hanzo beyond words when he struggles, flustered and blushing, hard and ready for him. But when the cowboy hears the subtle click of the belt and he slides the zipper all the way down until he gets a glimpse of a hard, purplish tip and Hanzo’s dark fuzz, he grunts in desperation at how much he has missed him.

The _not-here-Jesse,_ eager man undoes the lace of his bathing suit so quickly he only notices when his cock is out in the warm air of the beach and the waistband stretched around his thighs. Hanzo takes him in hand, wrapping deft fingers around his girth and tugging up firmly, stealing a moan while clear droplets ooze at the tip. “So thick and big, cowboy,” Hanzo purrs, knowing how much excites McCree when he praises his cock.

It undoes him, curling his stomach nice and warm, and Jesse slides his hand inside the swimsuit and squeezes Hanzo’s hardness into his palm, making room for himself there and jerking him off with short needy movements of his wrist. Hanzo moans and hides his face in the crook of his neck, risking a mean bite at the same time he slides his thumb back and forth the glistening tip.

“I ain’t gonna last darlin’,” McCree whispers, keeping his relentless pace pumping Hanzo’s cock.

“I will demand endurance tonight,” Hanzo says, hand jerking McCree demandingly. “This will suffice for now.”

“Give me some sugar and keep that handy job going then,” McCree says, winking and catching Hanzo’s mouth in a passionate kiss right after.

He could do this all day, kiss him like the most precious gift, touch him as though he was starved of his skin, make love to him in any way Hanzo demands. It comes out easily and naturally as nothing has in his life before. They commit together into a sloppy, needy, mutual hand job while their mouths mingle and fight a battle on their own, hands busy, squeezing, twisting and pumping, each one in their own desperate tempo.

Hanzo knows how to twist his wrist at the hilt, how to go up in a firm glide, feeling the cock in his hand twitch and jerk at his ministrations. He gives a gentle tug at the head before repeating the whole process again and McCree trembles and moans his name into his mouth, losing control of his hips, lunging forward as though he was fucking him. The archer loves it, revels in it, in how deeply he knows him in so little time and how much joy it brings to his heart to pleasure him in a thousand different ways.

McCree’s hand moves led by his own eagerness, mercilessly fisting his cock too fast and too greedily, arm surely tired and weary, movement smooth but firm and harsh at the same time, stealing not only the most shameless moans from Hanzo but building up his pleasure in a way that will burst out of him sooner rather than later. The kiss isn’t a kiss anymore, is a wild, hungry necessity that will never sate their enamored hearts.

“Jesse, Jesse,” Hanzo moans and that’s the irrefutable proof that he is coming long and good.

“Come for me, darlin’,” McCree whispers, swollen lips dragging against the other, breathing the same air, drinking right up the sweet melody coming out of the archer. It is just for him.

A hot gush spurts on Hanzo’s stomach and drips lewdly from McCree’s knuckles, his ragged breath, and body slack and trembling by the shudder originated by the sudden, intent, climax of his lover. Hanzo smiles, contented and sated. His hand never stopped but now moves with renewed intentions, more accurate and less frantic than before. McCree surrenders and hides his face in the crook of his neck, rocking his hips forward while Hanzo jerks him off and steals his orgasm. McCree comes hard and long, spilling himself over Hanzo, with his softened cock still in his hand a loud groan muffled in his neck. Feeble kisses relax him as he shakes off the jolt of pleasure running through him and weakening his knees, breath puffing hot on Hanzo.

They share a smile of complicity, both in the haze of their climax, intoxicated by the other, when the lust disappears and only love fogs their minds and fills their hearts. McCree falls for the archer’s lips softly, his left hand cupping his face, the metal so warm by the sun Hanzo pushes a cold, damp cheek into it. The nearby sea cleans them both from their sinful activities, and Jesse pouts childishly when Hanzo zips back the swimsuit with a disappointing noise. He retrieves his abandoned hat, dusts the sand and wears it.

“We should head back,” Hanzo says, clasping his hand with McCree’s.

“Wait. Not yet,” McCree says, standing in front of Hanzo with a dopey smile right about pouring the truth of his heart into this summery day. “I wanted to tell ya’ I...” McCree stutters and struggles to find the words to Hanzo’s heart while a sudden fear invades treacherously his body despite the soothing noise of the waves in the background. Hanzo narrows his eyes, his lips stretching into a knowing smile, encouraging him to continue. “This ain’t just a fling, Hanzo. I wanna wake up by your side every day an’ I wanna brag about you and not lie to anyone when they tell me I look happy and silly.”

Hanzo sighs, cocking his head to a side and throwing his arms around the cowboy’s neck, clinging to him while he fights with the words, with the ideas in his mind but feeling his thumping heart pressing right into his own and beating for him. “I want to be with you, darlin’. I wanna be yours and I want ya’ to be mine ‘til you get tired of me.”

“I love you, Jesse,” Hanzo says, plain and simple. He was never the one to deny the facts or to fool himself. This is his piece of heaven on earth: the cowboy, and he won’t let him escape.

“Do you?” McCree says, parted mouth battling to smile or to burst of glee.

“Did you ever doubt my feelings for you?”

“I’m a good for nothing,” McCree shrugs.

“You are the best man I have ever known. A fool, yes, filthy and raunchy that equally arouses and embarrasses me -Hanzo rolls his eyes- but I know you are the love of my life, wherever this takes us I am yours.”

“Oh, darlin’,” McCree sobs, a gleeful tear smearing on Hanzo’s cheek while he holds him for dear life until he squeezes the air out of his lungs. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

For the first time in the past weeks Hanzo and Jesse stroll hand in hand across the shore, free to show how they feel about each other, no more secrets, no more furtive glances -well, maybe there will be a bunch of those-, but no more hiding around, not from their friends not from their own hearts.

“Hey, honey,” Jesse says when they spot the rest of the team gathered around Lucio’s music. “Does that mean I can call you pet names in front of the others?”

“You are already awfully generous with your endearments.” Hanzo arches a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Smooch ya’ when I feel like it?” McCree wiggles his eyebrows.

“Yes.” Hanzo blushes when some heads turn around to them in awe. They've been gone for too long.

“Do ya’ think Genji will tease us?” McCree frowns and Hanzo snorts.

“Genji already knows,” Hanzo says. “And I am pretty sure everyone else does, Jesse.”

“Let’s make an official statement just in case,” McCree says, circling his waist with a shameless arm while the other cups the back of his head. Hanzo laughs openly and so gleefully it melts McCree’s heart, and then they kiss once more, lips swollen with wanton, untired naughty tongues meeting once more. They show off their love swathed by the cheerful shouts of encouragement from their welcoming audience, by the warmth of the sun and the swaying of the sea, the same noises that will accompany them years later as they get married on this same beach, among the same friends, lapped by the same unbridled sea that will witness how you can find love and cherish it if you are fool enough to fall for it.

And Jesse McCree and Hanzo Shimada are two damn fools in love.

  


**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you enjoyed this silly thing that started as a shameless smut and ended up being tooth rotting fluff (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Corrections, suggestions and comments are more than welcomed ╭( ･ㅂ･)و ̑̑ ˂ᵒ͜͡ᵏᵎ⁾✩


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